Capture This
by an-alternate-world
Summary: With so few roles on offer in Hollywood, Brittany had managed to book a magazine spread for him. He'd needed some fresh photos anyway, but he hadn't expected the photographer to be so attractive.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Capture This  
**Author: **an-alternate-world  
**Rating:** M+  
**Characters/Pairing: **Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe  
**Word Count:** 6,483  
**Summary:** With so few roles on offer in Hollywood, Brittany had managed to book a magazine spread for him. He'd needed some fresh photos anyway, but he hadn't expected the photographer to be so attractive.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe.

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_Based (loosely) on the following prompt from OTPprompts on Tumblr: Person B decides to pursue a career in modeling, but is insecure and intimidated by the other, more experienced models. Person B's first job is for Person A, and involves a solo nude session. Bonus points if Person A notices how nervous Person B is, and once the project is finished, decides that the work is too personal to share, even if A intended on displaying it initially._

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He wasn't entirely certain about this. It was Cooper's idea, after all, and anything that came out of Cooper's mouth was something to be treated with varying degrees of doubt and contempt but he knew he needed to have new headshots taken. He needed fresh headshots for a fresh town. Anything he had done in New York was too Broadway, too theatrical, too posed, too black-and-white and screamed old-town glamour that conflicted with the fresh-faced enthusiasm he needed to have in LA.

He was forced to admit that the glitz of LA was nothing like he'd expected. He'd visited Cooper plenty of times but he'd never truly accounted for the difference in being a tourist compared to 'another wannabe' in LA. Living there had revealed the polluted cesspool of people willing to do anything – literally _anything _– to get a toe in front of someone else to be cast. It had been bad in New York but it was nothing compared to Los Angeles. The grime of the city air was barely noticed any more, replaced instead by side-eyeing everyone he met at casting calls.

There were _some_ benefits to relocating to LA. In New York, his limited engagements on Broadway were enough for the special fan to recognise him and create a mild buzz of hysteria wherever he went. In LA, he lacked the clamouring fans with old photos and playbills that screeched his name and waved Sharpies in front of his face. _Occasionally_ he'd be recognised but it was rare and made strolling through Santa Monica or along Rodeo Drive much easier when he could put on a pair of sunglasses and pretend to be a famous person instead of someone desperately seeking a job. He wasn't willing to sell himself out like _some_ people.

One of the hardest adjustments had been accepting a new LA-based agent/manager/publicity team. His girls worked in conjunction with his New York team of Jeff, Nick and Trent, but Tina, Sugar and Brittany were…eccentric on a good day and frightening on a bad day. He'd quickly realised that changing from an all-male team to an all-female team had its complications, because they could never decide on the appropriate thing to wear. Sugar always wanted something ultra-colourful with a touch of faux feather or fur while Brittany preferred insane patterns and so many layers he thought he may as well just wear his entire wardrobe. Tina cooed over whatever he was wearing and constantly made comments that sounded like she was hitting on him, despite knowing he was gay. With his New York background, Blaine preferred more classic elegance of a bow tie and cardigan, which was apparently not even _close_ to fashion-forward in a place like LA where your every move could be caught on camera.

The desire for attention was, perhaps, the most challenging aspect of fame. You craved the admiration of others who respected your talent, the acclamation that yes, you _were_ actually something special while simultaneously fearing the attention that would proliferate afterwards. The notoriety was terrifying and the invasion of privacy was nauseating and-

And _still_ Blaine sought something that Cooper had repeatedly warned him against, except Blaine hadn't been dissuaded because performing was something that came as naturally to him as breathing.

The lull between auditions for pilot season had started to become boring and lonesome. The old habits of performing eight nights a week in front of a live audience made the desolate trudging from one packed hallway to another with a series of outdated photos an unrewarding burden.

With some help from Nick and Trent, Tina and Brittany had secured a shoot for a magazine spread. It was a chance to model some new fashions and get his face out there. He could only hope it might intrigue a casting director enough to search further. At this point, he'd be an extra. After Cooper's struggles, he wasn't deluded enough to believe he'd become an overnight sensation from a single casting in a TV show, movie or commercial. He wasn't sure that was an ideal situation though – a healthier resume of past roles tended to offer less to criticise and a better body of work to create a show reel. At least, that was true in _most_ cases.

He showed up at the photography studio a little after ten, fidgeting with his bow tie before he walked through the door and up the stairs. A series of photos lined the narrow staircase, varying between tasteful portrait shots and stunning landscapes of city skylines and nature panoramas. He didn't recognise most of the people in the portraits though. He wondered if that was a problem – could he expect good shots which still weren't good enough to book a job?

At the top of the stairs, a white buzzer stood out against the black wall. Biting his lip in nervous anticipation, he pressed it and heard the chiming of bells inside. He had no idea what to expect from the shoot nor the photographer. Brittany had been sketchy about the details – or maybe the better term was 'scattered'. She wasn't as reliable as Trent, frequently getting details muddled before she'd begin blaming her cat for giving her the wrong number. Sometimes, Blaine longed for the stability and normality of Nick, Jeff and Trent. Tina was pretty reliable, but Brittany and Sugar reminded him of lunatics with missing segments of their brains rather than the professionals he needed to get a paying gig.

He'd been waiting so long that he was about to start checking that he'd gone to the right address and then contacting Brittany to ensure she had sent him the correct location, when the door abruptly opened and a man, not too dissimilar to his own age, stood framed in the doorway with an intrigued expression on his face.

Blaine swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. The male was openly eyeing him up and down with an undisguised interest that he suspected extended beyond just being a photographer. Even with all his clothes on, he felt naked under the intensity of his stare. "You're my model?"

Blaine felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. The question sounded derisive, laced with indignation and disinterest, and contrasted with the look on his face. "That depends. Are you the photographer?"

Something in the male's face shifted, a faint smile playing on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. "I do have a tendency to take photos of people and places."

"So…?"

A hand stretched between them, slightly tan and speckled with freckles. He paused a moment before sliding his hand into it.

"Sebastian Smythe," the photographer said by way of introduction, his handshake firmer than Blaine would have expected but not painful.

He supposed part of the challenge was not immediately folding in on himself and looking weaker compared to this guy that was eyeing him like a predator.

"Blaine Anderson," he said, gazing back with as much determination as he could muster. There had been a time he'd mumbled his way through introductions because of his discomfort or awkwardness, but Nick had roleplayed introductions with him once and he'd learned the terrible impression that left when he wanted to appeal to someone who might cast him. How could he prove to them he was interested and capable if he didn't seem sure of himself?

"Fun." Sebastian was definitely smirking as he held the grip of his hand a moment too long to be normal before letting it go. "Come on in. There's a lot to be done."

He followed Sebastian into the studio, which was large enough to avoid feeling claustrophobic and yet small enough to feel cozy. A Latina with long hair coiled over her shoulder tottered around on ridiculously high heels near a clothing rack while a tall guy with sandy brown hair moved between lights to refocus in an attempt to avoid casting drop shadows. They offered Blaine brief waves before turning back to their work.

"Santana is my stylist who will basically prod, poke and dress you today," Sebastian said with a wave to the girl. He eyed her short, sky blue tube dress and wondered if he should feel concerned about her sense of style clashing with his own. "Hunter is the tech monkey who will ensure the colouring and lighting is spot on, otherwise this shoot becomes a colossal waste of time."

Blaine nodded because he was more than familiar with the amount of time that could be spent on shots which didn't turn out useful later. Cooper had two such experiences under his belt and Blaine had listened to his brother's immense frustration both times when the photos had been unworkable and reshoots had been demanded.

"There's coffee over there," Sebastian pointed at a small kitchenette with a coffee machine, sandwich tray and fruit platter on a table, "and food. I know some people don't like eating but I'd rather you don't faint on me, so if you need a break, you ask for it. Got it?"

Blaine nodded again and tried not to start fiddling with his bow tie out of a nervous habit. Sebastian's gaze bordered on being too attentive and it faintly unnerved him to think that this man would soon be viewing parts of him through a camera lens where Blaine would have nowhere to hide.

"Hate to break up the lover's fest, boys," Santana bustled over with a clothes hanger draped across her arm and jabbed a finger at Blaine, "but you need to get rid of that helmet attached to your head. Classic Hollywood was sixty years ago for a reason."

He winced, touching a hand to his hair self-consciously. "I really don't think-"

"I can deal with curly hair, short stuff," Santana interrupted with a snappy wave of her hand. "You leave whatever your hair does to me. There's enough product in there to plug the hole of the Titanic."

Feeling desperate, Blaine looked at Sebastian but the photographer had tuned out of the conversation, his eyes betraying his disinterest in dissuading the stylist from her mission. He realised that it was his job today to comply with the demands of others and deflated, following the directions toward the bathroom after Santana had thrust the clothes into his unprepared hands.

It was time-consuming to thoroughly wash out his hair with the aim of avoiding it gaining the appearance of springy broccoli. He was terribly insecure as he combed his fingers through the curls, trying to tame them before he swapped his clothes for those Santana had given him. The pants were a little tight around his thighs and he was forced to suck in his stomach when he buttoned the fly. The pale green shirt didn't seem to compliment his skin colour properly and he disliked the pearlescent buttons but it was the outfit he'd been given.

With a nervous sigh, he picked up his folded clothes and returned to the studio.

"Wrong shirt colour!" Hunter's voice boomed through the area and he jumped, clutching the clothes to his chest defensively. The light technician had a tilted head and squinted eyes as he looked at Blaine, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to adjusting the spill of the overhead light.

"Hunt's right. You need a darker green." Santana tsked as she approached, walking around him and dragging long nails down his back. "Are the pants uncomfortable?"

"Um… No, they're bearable," he murmured, not wanting to be too much of a problem in case they didn't have other pants that would fit.

"Good, because they make your ass look fantastic." Santana took his clothes and then tottered to the clothing rack. She flicked through hangers until she found what she wanted, a button-down shirt that was a deep forest green and lacked the pearlescent buttons. She handed it to him and stared at him expectantly.

"What?"

"I'm waiting for you to change so we can move onto controlling that thing on your head," she said and he flushed, unbuttoning the shirt and handing it to her. She barely glanced at him as he pulled on the new shirt but she did nod in approval when it was buttoned.

She sat him on a stool facing away from a mirror. With a small dollop of product in the palm of her hand, she moved around his head with confident fingers and long nails that scratched his scalp. She occasionally murmured something to herself which sounded like Spanish and would call questions to Sebastian who would wander over and gaze at Blaine with a distant expression before replying in something that sounded like French. Santana brushed his face with various powders and creams to contour his appearance and ensure that the bright lights wouldn't drain his cheeks of colour. He was grateful Santana evidently had enough experience to make such adjustments. He'd been expected to do his own make-up on his first amateur shoot and hadn't known what to do. The results had made him look like a ghost and were unusable.

"Alright, off you go," she said with a light push to his shoulder. He hopped off the stool and walked over to where Sebastian and Hunter were standing by the camera.

"Santana, you're a miracle worker!" Hunter called with an approving grin as he looked Blaine up and down.

"I know! That's why you pay me the big bucks!" she teased, moving to stand beside Blaine and patting his head. He squirmed, wondering what it was that kept drawing so much attention to him.

Sebastian was silent for a moment as his eyes shamelessly raked over Blaine's form, before he pointed Blaine onto the expanse of white paper laid out on the floor and wall of the studio. "Test shots first, then we'll get into it."

Blaine followed the directions and stood, slightly awkwardly, as the lights flared when Sebastian pressed the button and Hunter leapt in to make adjustments to the lights or Santana would approach to fiddle with the folds of the shirt against his chest. He was fairly sure was going to be blind by the end of the day with the dazzling flashes to his eyes, which was a constant problem when he ran into paparazzi or excited fans at the stage doors but one he was (hopefully) going to have to get used to in the future.

Apparently satisfied with the changes made, Sebastian began issuing orders for him to stand in certain poses or look in certain directions. Sometimes he was given the freedom to move as he wanted but photo shoots always felt so artificial that it was easy for his discomfort to turn into wooden uncertainty. Sebastian would notice and easily take control, confidently and calmly directing him from behind the lens. Having a photographer who knew what he wanted and how to clearly articulate that was an immense relief. There was a photographer in New York who rarely spoke, leaving Blaine's face and hands at a fidgeting loss. The furious exchanges between the photographer and his stylist in Italian had betrayed how badly Blaine was performing.

With Sebastian, it was easy for the shoot to find a routine. He rotated through various outfits that Santana gave him while Hunter moved basic pieces of furniture onto the set, like a white cube or a fancy wooden chair. Sebastian became more fussy when the props were introduced, demanding him to use them in a particular way and then shaking his head when he complied.

"The furniture distracts from _him_," he heard Sebastian say to Hunter as he kicked off his shoes and roamed around the set to find a new angle. His cheeks felt warm at the words, although he wasn't entirely sure if the photographer was complimenting him or not.

With the chair in place, Sebastian attempted to get some close-ups of his face. It proved a challenge when all he was capable of doing was crushing his cheek and looking "like a doll that had been squashed by a truck", according to Santana. Sebastian was visibly frustrated when Santana stepped in to try adjusting Blaine's head and hand like he was a flexible Barbie.

By the fifth outfit, Sebastian had waved Hunter and Santana away to eat. He'd asked if Blaine wanted a break but he preferred to push on while the adrenaline was still thrumming through his body. Sebastian was clearly immensely focused on continuing too.

"Unbutton your top…two buttons for me," Sebastian said, changing lenses on the camera and twisting the focus ring as he looked through the viewfinder at Blaine. It was said clinically with a cool sense of detachment, but Blaine was pretty sure he didn't feel overheated simply because the lights were hot.

He ended up with four buttons undone and Sebastian's fingers nimbly rearranging the collar of his shirt. They hovered near his neck and it was a strain to stay still as he studiously avoided looking anywhere near Sebastian's face.

"How comfortable are you with shots involving less fabric?" Sebastian asked, returning to his camera and squinting through the viewfinder.

Blaine glanced towards where Santana and Hunter had their heads together by the kitchenette, looking surprisingly couple-y after he'd begun suspecting that Santana had little interest in men. Maybe he'd have to rethink his assessment. "I don't like having an audience."

"You like the _intimacy_ of just being with the photographer?" Sebastian mused, pausing his focusing of the shot to smirk at Blaine.

He ducked his head with embarrassment and felt the flash around him. Sebastian chuckled at his affronted glare.

"I've wanted to catch that expression since I opened the door," the photographer grinned and it was difficult not to cross his arms over his chest and pout like a toddler. "So you're open to some more revealing shots then? I just have to dismiss the lackeys?"

Blaine shrugged, knowing that he would stop before he was too nude. He didn't need some sort of naked photo scandal to surface and give him all the wrong publicity. His Broadway fanbase was too young, too innocent, too wholesome. Nick would probably string him up by his balls.

Sebastian took a few more shots before he handed Blaine another outfit to change into. As he did so, the photographer walked over to Santana and Hunter and snagged a sandwich from the tray. The three talked and he tried to ignore Santana's eyes on him as he fiddled with getting the perfect knot to the tie around his neck, adjusted the strap of the belt around his waist. He was so intent on proving he could dress himself that he failed to realise the approach of Santana's heels.

"Behave," Santana said, smoothing the labels of his jacket and the creases on his shoulders. It was loud enough that she could have been saying it to Sebastian, but he wasn't quite sure. Her dark eyes seemed pretty fixated on him.

Hunter checked his equipment and then gave Sebastian a fist bump before he left with the Latina. Almost immediately, Blaine began fretting he'd made the wrong decision. Maybe he couldn't say no before too much of his skin was exposed and his New York team was plotting his castration.

"You look like a skittish rabbit. Stop that," Sebastian said firmly, leaning against the chair Blaine had been sitting on earlier. "I'll still give you directions and you call the shots if you don't want to do it. Clear?"

Blaine bit his lip, eyes flickering up to Sebastian who looked completely calm and composed. He supposed he had to offer a small amount of trust to this man and gave in with a tiny nod.

Despite it just being the two of them, little changed in the way the shoot progressed. Sebastian continued to tell him what to do, how to move, where to look, and he continued to do his best to do what was demanded, moving the way he needed to or focusing his eyes wherever Sebastian had told him.

The tie was the first thing to go followed by the top button on his shirt. Sebastian's voice retained the calm detachment as he issued orders and Blaine began to relax. He allowed the buttons on his shirt to be undone, pausing whenever Sebastian told him to stop because he wanted to get close-ups of his hands. He could feel his heart beating in his chest when his shirt hung open on his shoulders and Sebastian eyed him a moment too long.

"So why Broadway?" Sebastian asked suddenly, lowering the legs of the tripod as he moved to Blaine's left.

He blinked in surprise and looked over his shoulder. The lights flashed as Sebastian captured the image with an amused smile.

"How do you know about Broadway?" he replied, trying to keep his feet fixed when the photographer indicated he needed to stay still.

Sebastian's smile widened into a grin that left dimples on his cheeks and crinkles at the edges of his eyes. "I make it a habit of knowing about popular new talent that skipped out of the closet," Sebastian said simply, twisting a dial on top of the camera and peering through the viewfinder again. "Do you think it's a risky move to start your career as a gay man?"

Blaine looked away with a slightly puzzled frown. Sebastian sounded like one of those homophobic reporters in New York, challenging his sexuality in order to garner an exclusive skerrick of information. "I wasn't going to lie to myself or anyone else as I tried to make my name," he said finally. "If they couldn't accept I was talented _and_ gay, then I shouldn't be anywhere near the glitter and lights of show biz."

"Talented, huh?" The lights flashed again as Sebastian depressed the button on the camera. "That doesn't sound particularly modest."

"Was I meant to?" he challenged, feeling almost defensive in front of this stranger.

Sebastian shrugged, gazing over the top of the camera. "You have a strong baritone voice and a look that is distinctive and translates well onto camera," he said, his fingers twisting the focusing ring on the lens. "I suppose I can see why you'd be a bit conceited."

He opened his mouth to retaliate when the lights flashed in quick succession and blinded him to where the photographer was. He could hear Sebastian's satisfied hum as he looked at the photos. "Are you _trying_ to rile me up?"

"It seems to be working," Sebastian mused, abandoning the camera to move towards him. He took half a step back out of habit as the photographer's fingers peeled the shirt from his shoulders and then retreated back behind the camera again.

"I'm not a puppet you can enrage simply for a good shot."

"And yet you've moved to Los Angeles, home of puppeteers playing with marionettes everywhere," Sebastian pointed out as another flash pasted sparkles on Blaine's eyes. "Broadway is all about rehearsals, about repeating a role so many times that the emotions attached to each line become natural."

Blaine frowned and another flash went off.

"Hollywood is all about quick grabs, limited rehearsals, following orders to get something done in the least amount of takes possible." Sebastian looked over the camera, his gaze intense when Blaine met it with a small squint to his eyes from the dazzling lights. "If you want to make it here, you'll have people saying all sorts of things to you just so they get the reaction they need. Some of it might not be true but that doesn't matter. They're looking for genuine rawness that they can capture, not something manufactured through spending eons of time going through the motions until it feels stale."

Blaine tilted his head at Sebastian, intrigued by his words. He knew most of that instinctively after a few brief appearances on TV shows in New York or watching Cooper's credit card commercials when he was younger, but Sebastian had a way of explaining the situation without sounding accusatory or disheartened. It was simply a series of facts that Blaine couldn't deny.

Sebastian nodded to himself and placed the chair back on the set. "Sit. Do things with the chair. Get comfortable. Would you remove your pants?"

Blaine blinked as he looked down at himself. He supposed he still had his underwear on and there wasn't anything he needed to hide. His cheeks were probably a dark pink though as he pushed the tight pants down his legs and kicked them towards Sebastian.

"You have a body for the screen," Sebastian murmured, almost too quiet for him to hear.

He sat on the chair and allowed the photographer to issue commands about how to sit. It took him a while but they eventually found the same rhythm as earlier and Blaine was almost able to forget that he was without any clothes except for a pair of black boxer-briefs. Sebastian stopped prodding at his career and they lapsed into a silence that almost felt comfortable, moving around each other with a surprisingly relaxed ease.

Sebastian finally paused, his fingers still against the camera as he stared over it at Blaine. "You want to call it a day?"

Blaine looked down at himself, fingers brushing against his belly. "Well, I… If you think you have all the shots you need."

"Ideally I'd like to see you out of your underwear."

Blaine looked up at Sebastian's grinning face with a startled flush. He probably looked like a deer trapped in the headlights.

"But I wouldn't want to push you too far," Sebastian continued, moving away from his camera to fiddle with one of the lights. It looked like he was switching off for the day and Blaine wasn't sure how to feel about it.

It was probably why he ended up seized by stupidity and shoved down his boxer-briefs until they pooled at his feet.

"How do you want me?" he challenged, drawing Sebastian's eyes back to him. He watched the photographer's eyes widen, his mouth parted just slightly to allow his tongue to lick over his lips. He could feel his whole body flushing under the heated stare, the faintly amused smile, the definitely impressed incline of Sebastian's head.

"I don't need to have your cock exposed to me," Sebastian said bluntly, making a vague gesture towards the chair. "I can do tasteful."

Blaine sat down again, following Sebastian's orders to sit sideways with one leg crossed over the other. He could feel a small part of him doubting what Sebastian had wanted from this entire exercise. Maybe Sebastian wasn't gay. Maybe he hadn't been flirting. He began regretting the hasty and unchecked decision to do this, barely able to meet Sebastian's gaze or look anywhere near the camera. He knew he was attractive, knew he had a good body that took hours of dedicated fitness training each week to maintain, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of his nakedness. He'd done some scenes in very off-Broadway shows years ago that had included brief flashes of nudity for comedic effect but being in front of Sebastian's camera felt more exposing than performing in front of an audience of a hundred people night after night. He was extremely conscious of maintaining his dignity but it seemed like Sebastian knew exactly how to make him move and still keep him shielded. Perhaps the photos were more about removing the black stain of underwear from his skin rather than some voyeuristic naked shots that would cause a scandal in a few months or years' time and would make Nick, Jeff, Trent, Tina, Sugar and Brittany fight over who got to put his head on a stake for sheer stupidity.

"You'll go far, Anderson," Sebastian said as he finally disconnected the camera from the tripod and released the memory card. He carefully lowered the camera into an open black bag and spun the card in his fingers. "You want to look over some of the shots after you've dressed or just wait for me to send you the best ones?"

Blaine's toes wriggled against the white paper which drew Sebastian's eyes towards them. He had a feeling the photographer was trained to notice the minutest details about a person. "I'd, um… I'd like to look."

Sebastian nodded and moved towards the kitchenette. Blaine hadn't realised how hungry he was until then, when the adrenaline and the focus required by the shoot began to wear off. With a blush staining his cheeks, he quickly pulled on his underwear and strode over to wear Santana had left his clothes hours ago. There was little point in moving to the bathrooms now after Sebastian had seen everything but he still felt as though he was sheltering behind the rack of clothes as he knotted his bow tie and brushed a hand against his hair.

Sebastian was seated on a couch in a small alcove of the kitchenette, his feet propped up on a coffee table and a MacBook resting on his lap. Blaine picked up the platter of sandwiches and sat down beside the photographer to look over his shoulder at the photos.

Not having seen what Santana had done to his hair, he was surprised how effortlessly controlled it looked considering the frizz he'd witnessed in the bathroom after rinsing out the gel. You could tell he had curly hair but it was swept into gentle waves away from his face, making him somehow look older and younger without looking like a greasy classic Hollywood star from sixty years ago. Sebastian was flying through the photos almost too fast for Blaine to pick up on the details within him, alternating between huffing a soft laugh and humming in a distinct sound of dislike. His fingers would hit the Delete button from time to time on photos that all began to look the same to Blaine. He wondered what the photographer saw that he couldn't.

"I'll put all of these on a USB for you when I'm done," Sebastian said, breaking the silence as he glanced at Blaine gnawing on the corner of a sandwich. "Some will need a little bit of Photoshop for colour corrections but I think you'll be satisfied that there's a good range of shots here for any casting call as well as the spread."

Sebastian beckoned him closer and he tried not to feel too awkward as their arms and thighs pressed together. He could feel his heart quivering in his chest, perhaps a byproduct of an escaped butterfly from his stomach.

"These are my favourites," Sebastian murmured, opening up an array of images that Blaine stared at in surprise. He looked…nothing like himself.

He knew it was him – he'd seen himself enough in magazines and Playbills and the mirror – but the expressions on his face weren't anything familiar. There were a couple where his eyes looked unguarded as they focused on a place above him. There was one where his nose was crinkled in annoyance, probably in response to something Sebastian had said to get a reaction from him. There was one where his eyes were wide open and stunned as they stared directly at the camera, his lips parted with words on his tongue, and he felt like the person in the photo wasn't him but someone younger and more vulnerable.

There were a few shots of him on the chair with his clothes on, shots which showed the curve of his back and angle of his jaw. A close-up of his hands, his profile, half his face, the sparkle of his eyes. Sebastian had included one shot of him in just his underwear with an expression that seemed defiant considering how uncomfortable he'd felt, and then another where he clearly had no clothes on his skin and looked scared and lost.

Each shot was so radically different from the last, each expression captured with painstaking clarity. He didn't even know he was capable of such variety but all the photos spoke of an emotional depth he'd rarely witnessed in photos from the past. He supposed it was one of the flaws of Broadway – you invited someone to observe without having them fully engage you. No one got closer than their seat allowed, no one could pause and zoom in and examine every inch of his face, his body, his hands.

Yet Sebastian had done just that. Sebastian had captured him in a multitude of ways and managed to show insights into parts of his soul in moments when it was all stripped away. The talent that _Sebastian_ had was enough to leave him slightly breathless.

"Pleased?" Sebastian asked and Blaine wondered if the vulnerability he heard was just his imagination.

"They're amazing," he complimented, offering a smile that Sebastian seemed shy in returning. He wondered why. The photographer had been unassumingly confident when taking photos earlier.

"Thank you for the honour of shooting you," Sebastian said, dragging his gaze away from Blaine's and setting it on the computer. His fingers flew across the keyboard, creating folders and moving photos around.

Blaine tried to analyse each little detail of Sebastian in the hopes of understanding how the photographer was able to see him, except Blaine didn't really have a good eye for details and kept getting distracted by the line of freckles that drifted from Sebastian's cheek down his neck.

"What?" Sebastian huffed, pausing in his allocation of photos to folders to glance at him with arched eyebrows.

"You're just…" Blaine felt his cheeks heat again and shrugged, reaching up to ensure his bow tie was on straight before he left. He didn't think he should take up more of Sebastian's time than he already had.

"I'm just?" Sebastian prompted, his fingers still above the keyboard and his expression patiently amused.

"It's a shame you're a photographer," Blaine mumbled, rising to his feet and moving to retrieve his shoes.

"Oh?" Sebastian clicked something on the laptop before shutting the screen. Blaine could hear him following him. "Why is it a shame? I thought you were pleased with the shots?"

Blaine poked his first foot into his loafers before Sebastian's fingers closed around his wrist. His eyes flickered shut as his breath caught in his throat, the touch sending unexpected sparks along his nerves. "I guess I just imagined you'd make a good photography subject too," he whispered.

Sebastian laughed, tugging him until he turned around. There were only inches separating them and Blaine became conscious of the difference in their heights again.

"Should I feel like that was a compliment?" Sebastian murmured, his eyes dragging over Blaine's face in a way that made his skin flare with excited tingles.

"Probably depends on how vain you are."

Sebastian laughed again, but it was softer this time, more private, like only he was meant to hear it. "You're in Los Angeles, Killer. Vanity is everywhere."

He grimaced before he could stop himself, but Sebastian didn't seem to mind. Instead, the hand around his wrist raised it to settle on Sebastian's waist while Sebastian's continued higher, cupping his cheek and tilting his head. It made his shoulders stiffen as he stared into dark green eyes.

"How many of your magazine spreads turn into private naked shoots?" he said, his voice barely a breath between them. It was increasingly difficult to think coherently when Sebastian's thumb smoothed over his cheekbone.

"You would be the first," Sebastian acknowledged, his lips twitching at the corners. "You'd be the first client I've wanted to kiss since the moment I saw you too."

His breathing faltered as he continued to stare at Sebastian, feeling hypnotised beneath the gaze. "So you don't make a habit of flirting with your subjects?"

Sebastian pursed his lips, his eyes drifting back and forth over Blaine's expression. "Only the super hot ones," he conceded with a widening grin.

Blaine rolled his eyes and Sebastian huffed another of those soft, private laughs before finally, _finally_, pressing their lips together. His feet rolled back to settle firmly on the ground as Sebastian kissed him, the softness of his lips conflicting with the confident press of his tongue into Blaine's mouth. His breath stuttered as Sebastian angled his head and a thumb smoothed up the length of his throat to dig into his pulse point. He was powerless to do much of anything except grip at Sebastian's shirt between bunched fingers and let himself fall into the kiss.

Sebastian's teeth nipped at his lower lip, sucking it for a moment before he pulled away. When he finally opened his eyes, he felt completely dazed and his breathing was as uneven as Sebastian's. It was a challenged to focus on the face in front of him when every nerve in his body strained for more and every thought in his head told him to practise restraint.

"I'll buy you dinner," Sebastian said, lips brushing against Blaine's and making his whole body buzz with anticipation. "Then you can decide if you want to be naked in front of me again."

"That probably depends…" he said slowly, fingers loosening from Sebastian's shirt as he attempted to let go and move away.

Sebastian almost looked disgruntled as he leaned back, the grip of his hand tightening around Blaine's face to hold him steady. "I'm buying you dinner. What sort of catch could there be to that?"

Blaine felt the grin spread across his face as he twisted out of Sebastian's hold and shuffled back. "Do you plan on being naked too?"

Sebastian snorted. "I don't plan on letting you sleep."

Blaine giggled and flushed as he realised he still only had one shoe on. "Well then," he said, searching around for it and adjusting his clothes because of his nervousness and not wanting them to look too rumpled when he stepped onto the street, "you can pick me up at seven."

Sebastian stared at him, a laugh shaking his shoulders as Blaine walked towards the door. "Dress nice!"

Blaine glanced over his shoulder, aiming for a coy smile as his fingers lingered on the wooden frame. "What does _that_ matter? We both know you'll want me out of them at the first available opportunity."

Sebastian's laughter filled the studio as he walked out the door, following him down the stairs and onto the street. A stupid smile stretched his mouth wide enough that it hurt as the sun danced across his cheeks.

* * *

**_~TBC~_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Capture This  
**Author: **an-alternate-world  
**Rating:** M+  
**Characters/Pairing: **Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe  
**Word Count:** 7,185  
**Summary:** With so few roles on offer in Hollywood, Brittany had managed to book a magazine spread for him. He'd needed some fresh photos anyway, but he hadn't expected the photographer to be so attractive.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None.  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

Blaine wasn't someone particularly familiar with dating. He was certainly not a first timer and neither was he a virgin, but it had been a while since he'd dated anyone. His schedule in New York had been too insane sometimes to catch his breath so dating someone had been relegated to a burden he couldn't bear to maintain.

It wasn't as though he hadn't had options in New York either. There'd been a guy in one of his productions two years ago, Eli, who had been in a similar sort of situation. Rehearsals had been brutal and offered little chance at a social life but somehow they'd fallen into bed together several times because sometimes you just had to get the hormones out of your system. It had been a mutual enough arrangement, one with no strings that had offered both of them satisfaction. It had fizzled out when Blaine had been offered another role too good to turn down.

He'd moved a few theatres closer to the main strip of Broadway and met Jeremiah, a stage hand that lacked confidence in expressing himself. He was, in many ways, the complete opposite of Blaine who came alive when he was on stage, his notes soaring over audiences and his movements so practised that they were completely certain. Jeremiah was clearly uncomfortable with acknowledging his sexuality and Blaine couldn't afford to be someone who returned to his place in the closet when he was gaining attention for his equal rights movements within the gay community.

Jeremiah had left the production team rather abruptly when a rumour went around that he'd been caught with his pants down and a guy on his knees in front of him. Blaine's only comfort was that it hadn't been him on his knees, although he wasn't sure how true the rumour was.

There'd been a couple of others but Blaine strove to keep his personal life out of the media, as much for his sake as those of his partners. He never wanted it to seem like he was sleeping his way towards the top of anything nor did he want to cause an embarrassing downfall for himself or anyone else. It didn't stop the speculation about his romantic interests though, especially among the online community. Any photos that surfaced of him with another guy caused a flurry of interest. It had greatly amused Nick and Jeff and Trent, who enjoyed taking him out for extremely public lunches and dinners. Although they only ever talked business, he knew that posts about "Blick" and "Bleff" and "Traine" would be everywhere once he got home.

Even when Nick and Jeff had deliberately caused a publicity stunt of kissing each other in front of him, the online chatter hadn't stopped. Instead, rumours began circulating that he was part of a threesome with two-thirds of his managerial team - which had led to a lot of laughter when Jeff had shown him.

Yet as Blaine surveyed another incarnation of tight chinos, coloured polo, and patterned bow tie, he realised that most of his 'relationships' in New York hadn't really included anything that was discernibly a date. He might have counted going on some with a friend from Ohio except Sam had deftly squashed his assumption that they _were_ dates by unequivocally declaring himself to be straight.

He could feel his hands were sweaty as he fidgeted with the dark blue polo, assessed his plain white belt, wondered if it looked like a cohesive outfit with the black pants. He didn't want to look foolish and it led to him stripping the bow tie from his neck only to start rummaging for another one. He felt naked with a bow tie, a stupid feeling considering he had been completely naked in front of Sebastian only a few hours ago. Sebastian knew the lines of his body in a way no one else did and hadn't even really touched him. What did a bow tie matter in the face of something like that?

He started holding up various bow ties he'd already discarded, wondering if he should abandon the whole outfit and start again, when he heard the chime of his doorbell. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table and cringed when it said Sebastian was five minutes early. He wasn't prepared!

He tossed the bow ties at the bed and moved through his apartment, his hands increasingly wobbly as he got closer to the door. He peeked through the peephole and saw Sebastian's warped form standing on the other side, more dressed up than the jeans and t-shirt of earlier but still devastatingly casual in a sky blue short-sleeve button-down.

There was no way he was going to feel adequate next to this guy, and he was meant to be the budding star.

He opened the door and drew Sebastian's attention towards him. The male's eyes raked down his body and he whistled lowly.

"Damn, Killer," Sebastian complimented, his mouth spreading into an impressed smile. "I'm almost willing to forgo the dinner and just steer you towards your bedroom."

He flushed and scrubbed at his cheeks. "I couldn't decide on a bow tie," he mumbled, glancing around for his shoes.

Sebastian caught his wrist and he looked up, struggling with the shy butterflies that infiltrated his veins. "It's a good thing you aren't wearing one. Then I really would have ignored the dinner reservations."

He tried to glare at Sebastian, he really did, but the male was already laughing at his expression and letting his hand go.

"You look like someone just told you there was a gel apocalypse and you'll just have to let those curls run free," Sebastian teased and he missed putting his foot into the shoe.

"That's my worst nightmare," he said, fighting down the smile when Sebastian laughed.

"I'm not surprised," Sebastian said as he finally worked on both shoes, picked up his wallet and keys, and grabbed a jacket from the rack just in case a cool breeze blew through LA late at night.

"Not all of us can have nice, manageable hair," he complained as he locked his apartment and fell into step beside Sebastian.

The photographer tilted his head and ran a hand through the strands that looked effortlessly coifed. "It's funny how no one is ever satisfied with the hair they have."

Blaine had heard similar things from his array of hairdressers and stylists over the years, but he still thought he'd prefer straight hair to the curly mop that took on a life of its own on top of his head. Sebastian stopped at the elevator after he'd pressed the button and Blaine tried not to fidget under his gaze.

"Are you always this nervous?" Sebastian said, his fingertips trailing down Blaine's exposed forearm to his hand. It made his heart skip a few beats.

"No?" he replied, the upward inflection at the end of the word making it sound far more like a question than he'd intended. Sebastian smiled and twined their fingers together.

"I won't bite you," Sebastian teased, pulling him into the elevator when the doors parted. "Not until later, anyway."

He choked on his breathing which only made Sebastian snort beside him.

* * *

For someone who was relatively inexperienced with dates, Blaine felt pleased with his ability to hold a conversation together when Sebastian was determined to slip as many innuendos in as possible. He only got caught out once when Sebastian waited for him to take a sip of his water and then made an airy comment about enjoying the way is throat bobbed. He'd spluttered into his napkin as Sebastian grinned across the table at him.

He'd managed to ensure the night hadn't been wholly about flirting with someone who had spent hours taking his photos though. He learned that Sebastian had shunned his father's decision to go into law to become a photographer. When he'd asked why Sebastian preferred to be behind the camera rather than in front of it, Sebastian had shrugged and explained that he was more interested in capturing pretty things rather than being harassed for being one. He was surprised by Sebastian's answer and maybe it showed on his face as Sebastian explained he'd moved to Los Angeles straight out of high school and managed a few small roles. It had led to a few scouts following him around and he'd been so uncomfortable in the spotlight that he'd decided to step away and turn it onto others.

He learned that Sebastian was a couple of years older than him, that he'd spent his junior and senior years in France which was where he'd begun to truly appreciate art, and where he'd subsequently stayed to complete a college degree. Sebastian had tried to explain he was hopeless with paints and pencils but Blaine was still interested in being privileged enough to see them, not that he dared to ask. He filed away the assumption that Sebastian was fluent in French, that his mother was the first person he'd come out to when he was fourteen, that he had an inner confidence that made every movement seem effortless and calmly controlled. He wondered if it was the slight difference in age or if it was because Sebastian spent his days keeping a camera steady as he photographed people.

He offered his own pieces of information, such as mentioning his brother was Cooper Anderson and Sebastian had frowned for a moment. "The credit card guy?" he'd asked and Blaine had nodded, which led to Sebastian wanting to know why he'd followed his brother into showbiz rather than running in the opposite direction. They shared favourite colours – red for Blaine, green for Sebastian – and favourite music and books and movies and by the time Blaine was finished with his small plate of dessert, he was surprised that three hours had passed and he didn't feel like his entire life had been intruded upon. He'd given interviews before with reporters that wanted to probe the uncomfortable elements of his life, the things he'd rather conceal rather than expose. The interviews could be as short as half an hour and yet each minute felt like a day until he was finished and it felt like he'd run a month-long marathon without a rest. With Sebastian, time had passed without his conscious awareness and he felt comfortable in the presence of the other male. He didn't want to wonder if it had anything to do with the fact he'd already been seen naked.

Sebastian took his arm as they left the restaurant, gently guiding him through rows of tables and chairs until they spilled onto the streets. It was a balmy Los Angeles night, one that wasn't so humid that your clothes clung to your skin. He let Sebastian's hand slip between his own and tried not to be too conscious of any hidden paparazzi that might want to make him the latest headline. He could already imagine Tina and Brittany and Sugar's phone call if they thought he'd hooked up with the photographer they'd sent him to. Which was pretty much exactly what he intended to do, but he didn't need them screeching holes in his eardrums for that decision.

Sebastian remained a gentleman, holding open his door and then shutting it once he was safely inside the car. He still felt faintly embarrassed under the intense gaze of the male but he had begun thinking that maybe it was because Sebastian was always examining him, making him the centre of attention. He wasn't used to being watched so closely. It wasn't that it necessarily felt unnerving but it was definitely unusual.

"So," Sebastian said as he buckled his seatbelt and glanced across the car, "your place or mine?"

He blushed and looked out the window at the sidewalk. His heart felt like it was beating low in his stomach as anticipation began to mingle with disbelief that he was actually doing this. Was it a foolishly rash decision? Would he regret it in the morning?

"Whichever place is closer?" he suggested, peeking shyly at Sebastian.

The male leaned over and kissed his cheek, his lips leaving a sizzling burn against Blaine's skin. "You _can_ say you'd rather not, you know."

He tilted his head, his fingers catching against the side of Sebastian's neck to hold him close. "Only one of us is allowed to have second thoughts," he said, nervously pressing his lips to Sebastian's. His heart hammered in his chest for three painfully long beats before Sebastian responded, a hand fisting into his shirt as his tongue licked into Blaine's mouth. He could taste the vanilla of Sebastian's dessert and a hint of spice from the pasta and he felt almost shameless as he let his mouth be explored, forgetting entirely that they were in the middle of Hollywood and anyone could be taking photos of him.

"Mine," Sebastian breathed against him and his eyes opened wide. "My place, I mean," Sebastian corrected and he wondered if the cool flash he felt was disappointment or longing.

His gaze drifted back out the window as Sebastian wove between cars and approached the highway. Despite living in New York for years and frequently having to dodge insane taxi drivers, Blaine hadn't really been able to get used to the insanity of Los Angeles driving. The lack of indicators unnerved him and he often ended up lost on side streets, ending up circling around his destination for ages before he found what he was looking for.

Sebastian made driving in the city look effortless though. His face was relaxed rather than focused, his fingers tapping a rhythm to a song on his steering wheel which Blaine couldn't hear. They drove on the highway long enough to escape the centre of LA and Blaine realised they were heading north towards the hills after Sebastian took a turn off.

"My mom didn't let my father cut me off from my inheritance when I made my 'poor career path choice'," Sebastian explained as they drove through an area which was by no means as upscale as Beverly Hills but also wasn't filled with dodgy apartments that cost a fortune in rent like Blaine was forced to pay. The dim impressions he got of the gardens surrounding these homes was of a well-maintained neighbourhood that he could only dream of one day affording.

Sebastian drove for another ten minutes, turning onto a quiet street that ended in a cul-de-sac. He pressed a button on a controller above his head and the security gates noiselessly sprang open.

"Are you trying to make my pokey apartment seem inadequate?" Blaine asked as Sebastian passed through the gates and they began to close. He could only describe his feelings towards the mansion that stretched before him as stunned disbelief. Lights embedded in the garden illuminated the front façade and he could feel his anticipation rising to see what it looked like on the inside.

"Look on the bright side," Sebastian mused as he parked the car under the carport, "your neighbours won't be making a noise complaint in the morning because your bed keeps thumping into the wall."

Blaine gaped at Sebastian who merely grinned like the Cheshire Cat and clambered free of the car. He still didn't have a response as he allowed the male to open his door and press a gentle hand to the small of his back. He let himself be led to the front doorstep and looked around as Sebastian unlocked the door and pressed a button on his keys that made his car flash as it locked.

"After you," Sebastian said with a grand sweep of his hand that Blaine rolled his eyes at as he crossed the threshold.

Sebastian pressed the lights on and despite not knowing what to expect from the outside, he was still surprised by the interior design. Long stretches of wall spanned in various directions with framed shots of landscapes spaced at regular intervals. Some were colourful panoramas of a sunrise over Los Angeles. Others were portraits of famous buildings he recognised from France or New York. Even without looking too closely, he could tell they were Sebastian's. They had his artistic flair, the same scrutinising eye for details that he'd seen in the brief look at his photos earlier.

"Can I get you a drink?" Sebastian asked, discarding his shoes onto a neat little rack of shoes which all looked very similar to what he'd just taken off. Blaine toed off his loafers and let himself wander towards the first photo on the wall.

"I'm a very sloppy drunk," he said, taking in the way Sebastian had almost expertly captured the city of Los Angeles waking up in the early morning sunlight. Some of the buildings caught the glow of the sun while others remained shadowed. A handful of lonely cars filled streets devoid of rushing people.

A brief smile crossed his lips when arms circled around his waist from behind, hands pressing against his stomach and a mouth hovering close to his ear. "I don't mind sloppy as long as it gets you naked in my bed."

He giggled despite himself and let his hands settle on top of Sebastian's. "I don't think you understand. I'm prone to making statements about the validity of artistic pursuits, begging to have sex, and suddenly falling asleep."

Sebastian hummed against his ear, his lips tilting to press a kiss to the side of his neck that was so soft it made goosebumps break out across his arms. "I still fail to see anything wrong with that," Sebastian murmured, increasing the quivering tug in his lower belly.

"Some other time," he said, leaning into Sebastian's body and threading their fingers together.

"Some _other_ time?" Sebastian repeated, the amusement thick in his voice. "You plan on this being more than a one-time thing?"

Blaine realised he had no idea what he expected from this. He'd been lured in by Sebastian's advances but had to admit he had limited dating experience. It suddenly occurred to him how tight-lipped the photographer had been tonight about his previous relationships, although he suspected Sebastian had plenty of experience in getting people into his bed.

A chill settled on his shoulders and circled down his throat as he realised that maybe all this was to Sebastian was a pointless, no-strings hook up and he'd spent the afternoon fussing and fretting over something that would never go further. He felt stupid for ever imagining that Sebastian would want more.

He stumbled free of Sebastian's arms, returning to his shoes. "You should just-"

"_Blaine_," Sebastian sighed, standing exactly where Blaine had left him with a bewildered look on his face. "I know you don't know me that well but I don't often take people out to dinner."

He paused with one shoe on and halfway to pushing on the second one. He wasn't sure he felt willing to look at Sebastian too long. "So what's that meant to mean?"

"It means-" Sebastian huffed behind him and when he glanced back, the male was pacing around a small patch of tilted floor in front of his photos. "It means you're something different, okay? I don't take my subjects to dinner. I don't bring my subjects back here. I don't think of the multitude of ways I want to have my subject in my bed. I'm not going to make promises about what this is. How can I?"

Blaine's foot sank into the second shoe only because it was impossible to keep his foot frozen and hovering above it. "Perhaps I should have a small drink just to make my nerves shut up," he mumbled, fiddling with the collar of his polo.

Sebastian offered a hesitant smile and led a path that Blaine followed into a living room. Two large, plush couches lined the walls with a substantial wine rack occupying the third.

"Pick your poison," Sebastian said, approaching a small bureau and tipping amber liquid into a small tumbler glass. "There's not much I don't have."

Blaine dragged his lower lip between his teeth as he eyed the array of bottles filling the rack. He tended to avoid alcohol at all costs unless he was at an after-party for a show and drinking was practically customary. He was too used to the stories the next day about how he'd thoroughly embarrassed himself and blocked a great deal of it out. Now he was faced with an endless combination of alcoholic beverages simply because he'd created a fantasy that had been deftly shattered by a few words.

"Killer?"

He was drawn from his internal conflict by Sebastian approaching him, a shot glass in one hand with a slice of lemon between his fingers, the other hand with an outstretched thumb coated in grains of salt. It didn't take a rocket scientist to work out what drink had been decided for him.

He extracted the glass from Sebastian's fingers and looked down at the faintly yellow liquor which filled it. He inhaled deeply and stepped closer, his other hand curling around Sebastian's wrist and raising his hand to Blaine's mouth. Sebastian was gazing at him intently as he dragged his tongue across the outstretched thumb, drawing the salt into his mouth. As quickly as he could, he tipped the tequila down his throat and accepted the lemon slice to suck on. The alcohol burned down his oesophagus and the sour lemon made him cringe, but what was done was done. He passed the shot glass back to Sebastian who looked him up and down before returning to the bureau.

"Are you game for a body shot?"

His cheeks warmed and he scratched nervous fingers through his hair. "From you or me?"

Sebastian filled the glass and picked up another lemon slice and the salt shaker. "Your choice."

Blaine figured that a second shot of tequila could quickly put him on the 'sloppy' end of the drunken scale even though he liked the idea of exploring Sebastian's torso with his tongue. Maybe he'd get the opportunity later.

Instead, he swallowed his limited amount confidence and sat on one of the couches. He was exceedingly conscious of how Sebastian hadn't moved a muscle and hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. When he glanced towards the other male, he could have sworn his eyes looked a shade darker. Toes wriggling, he lay down and dragged his polo up to expose his stomach.

"I'm not opposed to that choice," Sebastian smirked, approaching him quickly and kneeling by the side of the couch. "Has it hit you yet?"

Blaine could feel a puddle of warmth in his stomach but he wasn't sure if that was related to the alcohol or the fact he'd exposed himself to the ridiculousness of a body shot. He squirmed slightly when the cool lemon was placed just above the cut of his chinos and watched the way Sebastian poured a smooth line of salt down the centre of his chest to his bellybutton.

"I definitely don't do tequila shots off my subjects either," Sebastian mused, tipping the contents of the shot glass into his bellybutton. A streak of liquid slipped down his side which Sebastian's thumb stopped.

He tried to stay still, tried to hold his breath, as Sebastian leaned forward and licked the salt down Blaine's body. He shuddered when Sebastian's lips closed around his bellybutton and his tongue circled around before moving on, piercing the lemon between his teeth and drawing away.

The whole experience was probably over within thirty seconds and yet it easily ranked as one of the most erotic of Blaine's entire life. He was definitely feeling increasingly hot but that might have had nothing to do with the alcohol that spread from his stomach through his veins.

Sebastian discarded the slice of lemon into the empty shot glass and abandoned them on the coffee table. Long seconds ticked by as they watched each other, as Blaine became increasingly aware of the disconnection between his thoughts as the alcohol tickled along his bloodstream, as Sebastian watched him with that same concentrated gaze that was almost unnerving.

"Kiss me," he whispered, reaching for Sebastian's hand as the other male climbed on top of him and pressed their lips together in a way that made his toes curl and tingles spread down his arms. He could taste the bitter lemon on Sebastian's lips but when he dipped his tongue inside, he could also taste the sour alcohol and the salt. It was as intoxicating as the alcohol, or maybe moreso when Sebastian's hands curled around his neck and into his hair to kiss him deeper than he thought he'd ever been kissed. His fingers boldly pressed beneath Sebastian's shirt, searching up smooth skin as hips ground down into his.

"You still want to be naked in my bed?" Sebastian breathed against his mouth, sucking briefly at his lower lip and making him feel faintly feverish with desire. He wondered if it was simply tequila that he'd taken from Sebastian.

He settled his hands against the indent of Sebastian's lower back. "You still going to be naked too?"

"I'm definitely still planning on you not getting any sleep," Sebastian murmured, softening his next kiss as he pulled away and slipped off Blaine's body. His fingers wove between Blaine's and helped him to his feet, guiding him towards a set of stairs. The alcohol had definitely started to take effect when he stumbled and clung to Sebastian before he tripped over. "Wow. You really are a lightweight."

"Shut up," he grumbled, poking Sebastian's chest as they neared the top of the staircase. "You gave it to me."

Sebastian kissed his temple and a shy smile crossed his lips as the other male continued leading him down a corridor and then turned into another one. He hoped he wouldn't have to sneak out of here at the crack of dawn because Blaine was pretty sure he could take one wrong turn and end up in Oregon or somewhere else ridiculous. He glanced around and noticed the photos here were more personal, collections of photos that were clearly Sebastian when he was younger and artfully framed.

"You know how many of my photography subjects have ended up here?" Sebastian said, pausing outside a door that looked as generic as all the others.

Blaine tore his eyes away from a photo of Sebastian where he looked to be mid-teens to look at the man that was approaching his late twenties. He wasn't sure much had changed.

"How many?" he asked uncertainly, his heart seemingly beating in his throat and his stomach in opposing rhythms.

"Absolutely none," Sebastian whispered with a kiss to his forehead that threatened to break the butterfly dam that Blaine was desperately trying to hold together in his throat.

They entered Sebastian's bedroom and he moved away to switch on the lamps by his bedside table. It surprised him how simple Sebastian's room was, bordering on minimalist. His bed was low, barely a foot off the ground, and covered in dark blue sheets. A set of double doors on one side led to either a closet or an énsuite bathroom while a mirrored set of double doors on the other side must have led to the same possibilities. Without a doubt though was the eye-catching feature which dominated the room. A framed panorama, larger than any he'd seen downstairs, hung above the bed. He stepped closer and realised that half of it was Paris and somewhere among it, there was a manipulation because Paris seamlessly blended into Los Angeles.

"This is amazing," he said in awe, trying to find where the two images overlapped. It was like playing a game of spot the difference.

"Thank you," Sebastian said with a nervous smile. "It's probably one of the things I'm proudest of."

Blaine felt mesmerised by the scene and it was clear from the photos he'd seen around Sebastian's house that his appreciation for France ran deep.

Yet he wasn't here to admire Sebastian's artwork – at least not right now – and as soon as he felt hands press into his waist, he tilted his neck to allow easy access to the male's nose skimming along it. A shiver rippled down his spine as fingers pulled his polo up and over his head and Sebastian's hands spanned wide over his chest.

"After you left my studio, I wasted hours looking at your shots," Sebastian said, his voice low as he pressed kisses along Blaine's neck down to his shoulders. "I imagined mapping you with my hands and discovering every inch of you."

Blaine knew his heart was threatening to beat past his ribcage as one of Sebastian's thumbs rolled against his peaked nipple. He could tell that an increasing amount of blood was heading south and it was definitely emptying out of his brain. "You had dozens of shots of me naked. What else is there to discover?"

Sebastian chuckled, his breath tickling Blaine's skin. "What you taste like when you come across my tongue," Sebastian answered easily, his teeth catching on Blaine's earlobe. It was difficult not to tremble. "What you feel like when I stretch you wide around my fingers. What you sound like as I enter you the first time. What you smell like when I make you sweat all over my sheets." Sebastian paused, his other hand settling low on Blaine's stomach, a tantalising tease of what was to come. "What you _look_ like as you shake apart against me."

He was definitely breathless as Sebastian tugged him away from the photo and turned him around. In the low light, he could tell Sebastian's eyes were heavily dilated and he didn't think the alcohol was wholly to blame.

His fingers shook as he worked buttons through holes, something to do while Sebastian merely brushed the faintest of kisses against his neck and throat. The fabric hung loose from Sebastian's shoulders and he shrugged out of it before giving Blaine a little push towards the bed.

It was even lower than he thought but once he realised how close he was to the floor, he realised he liked it in some way that he didn't entirely understand. Sebastian towered above him, the lamp casting more than enough light for him to see the deep lines of defined abdomen. Once again, he questioned why this man was a photographer and not the model.

"My photos don't do you justice," Sebastian mumbled, easing down onto the bed and stroking his fingertips down Blaine's sides. "No photo ever could."

He was pretty sure his cheeks were pink as Sebastian kissed him again and again and again, drowning him and resuscitating him over and over until he was so far away from coherent he never thought he'd find it again. Together, they fumbled with the buttons and zips of pants, haphazardly shoving them down legs and off ankles and meeting again for another kiss. It was only thin cotton that separated them but Blaine could easily feel the firm curve of Sebastian's cock in his underwear. Possessed by something he could only blame as other worldly, his hand slipped past the elastic and palmed Sebastian roughly.

"_Fuck_," Sebastian groaned against his lips, his hips jerking at the touches when Blaine wrapped his hand around the length and dragged it up and down. A long hiss fled Sebastian's mouth as he pressed his face into Blaine's neck. His thumb slipped through the damp slit and he was rewarded with a filthy moan. "_God_, yeah… Just like that."

He passed his thumb over the spot several times before Sebastian whined and grasped his wrist, pulling his hand firmly away.

"I can fuck you, right?" Sebastian asked, lips closing around a random spot on his neck that caused fizzling jolts down Blaine's spine.

"Y-Yeah," he agreed with a wobbly nod.

Sebastian hummed against his skin and drew back, glancing over his body briefly before he reached for the bedside table which seemed to be practically flat against the ground. He removed a bottle and a series of foil squares and wriggled down the bed, fingers hooking into Blaine's underwear. "Do you have any idea how hot you are?" he said, peeling them down and exposing Blaine for the second time that day. His hips squirmed against the mattress as Sebastian stared at him with a look that could only be described as pure lust.

"I'm an a-actor," he said, causing a small burst of laughter from Sebastian's mouth as he lowered himself between Blaine's legs. He wasn't sure if it was the answer Sebastian wanted but it ceased to matter after his brain short-circuited at the feeling of wet, hot heat surrounding his length. He moaned, fingers flying into Sebastian's hair to grasp at the strands. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting shallowly into Sebastian's mouth as the male showed no sign of discomfort. Instead, he raised Blaine's hips and stroked his middle finger against his entrance.

Another moan flowed past his lips as it pressed inside, curling his legs towards his chest in an attempt to make the positioning easier. He could feel Sebastian's finger, an intrusion almost unwelcome after so long without getting laid, but then he did some sort of flicking motion with his tongue that distracted him entirely and he was soon rocking down on it, aching for more. Sebastian's lips suckled hard as he pressed in a second and Blaine was mostly powerless to doing anything except fisting his hands into Sebastian's hair and the sheets, rocking his hips into the motions of the other male's mouth and fingers.

A broken gasp followed the third finger and he could feel the impatience of wanting more mingling with the urge to come from Sebastian's mouth swirling within him. He tried to choke out a warning but it only seemed to spur Sebastian on, bobbing his head faster and dragging his tongue through the slit. Blaine bit out a weak curse as three fingers curled deep within him, over and over, splitting him apart until the coil of tension within his lower belly snapped and he came within Sebastian's mouth.

He was still trembling as Sebastian pulled away, unable to do much but watch the male lick his lips as he searched around the bed. The foil square was located and ripped open, the condom rolled down and Sebastian's fingers removed.

"Now I know you taste as delicious as you look," Sebastian said, practically purring as he easily rolled Blaine onto his stomach and raised his lower body from the bed. "I know how tight you were around my fingers."

An index finger smoothed along his spine and he arched into it, his hips rolling up as Sebastian settled behind him. It was impossible to miss the jutting length that pressed against him.

"Been thinking about this since I saw you emerge in those ridiculously tight pants Santana made you wear for the first outfit," Sebastian said, deliberately rubbing his cock along Blaine's hole. "Pretty sure she did it deliberately."

He almost bit out a reply but his brain was hazy with the first orgasm and probably the tequila and definitely the words, so he was utterly powerless to doing anything except following Sebastian's hands as he held his hips still and pushed into him. He whimpered at first from oversensitivity, his head dropping against the pillows, but once he had Sebastian's thighs against the backs of his, once he was completely filled, a shaky sigh passed his lips.

"You are _exquisite_," Sebastian breathed into his skin, drawing his hips back before sinking forward again, one arm wrapping firmly around Blaine's belly. "Utterly gorgeous."

Despite being sweaty and buzzing from his first mind-blowing orgasm, he was pretty sure he heated under the words. Sebastian began as patient, allowing him time to adjust and get past the oversensitivity. It was probably torturous for the other male but to Blaine it felt _amazing_ to be so full and feel so content and safe in the arms of someone he hadn't even known a day.

"I imagined fucking you over the chair in the studio too," Sebastian confided unexpectedly, the cinch of his arm tightening. "It was so hard not to fuck you senseless while you were there and once you were gone and I was looking at your photos, I had to fight so hard not to jerk myself off."

Sebastian's words worked his cock towards being half-hard as arousal and desire seemed to replace blood in his veins.

"_Christ_, Blaine," Sebastian said and his hips surged forwards, slamming forward once, twice, three times, enough for Blaine to see stars speckling his vision. When he was pretty sure he was hard again, Sebastian pulled out and he ended up on his back. Above him, the photographer leaned in to kiss him feverishly, a hand sliding under his waist to hold him up. He didn't fight the kiss or the change in their positions, allowing Sebastian's mouth to distract him before he was entered again and could do nothing more than moan.

Sebastian hitched his legs around a trim waist, opening him, spreading him, sinking into him again and again. He tried to hold onto whatever section of Sebastian's upper body that he could, one hand clinging to Sebastian's shoulder and the other tangling into brunette hair. They found a rhythm of rocking together, clinging to skin and hair, arms and necks, exchanging heated, panting breaths between them. He could feel his cock bouncing against his stomach, heavy and full and completely neglected, until Sebastian pressed a kiss to the hinge of his jaw.

"Touch yourself. Show me what you like," the male whispered into his ear and Blaine could do little more than tremble.

A slight repositioning of their bodies occurred, one where Blaine had enough space to slip his hand between them, wrapping his hand around his length and tugging it in long, firm strokes up and then twisting his wrist going down. Sebastian began to roll his hips in a similar rhythm and it was so slow that he could feel his anticipation ratcheting higher and higher.

Sebastian offered a brief kiss when he leaned forward, forcing Blaine's legs wider, and then they were moving, twisting on top of the sheets as Sebastian ended up beneath him. Somewhere along the way, he'd slipped off Sebastian's cock but it only took a few seconds to realign and sink down. His back arched at the increased depth, the way his whole body was on edge and buzzing. He moved to touch himself again but Sebastian's hand swatted his away, grasping his length and following a similar pattern that Blaine had been doing earlier, except faster.

"The photos I could take of you now," Sebastian muttered, thrusting his hips up as Blaine rocked himself down. "_God_, you're so wrecked."

Blaine whimpered when Sebastian's thumb passed through the slit, his hands spanning over Sebastian's torso to keep his balance. "I'm not… Don't need the scandal," he said, his mind fuzzy as he tried to remember why taking photos of him like this would be a very, _very_ bad idea.

"I'd never share them," Sebastian promised, twisting his wrist on the downstroke at the same time as he pushed powerfully upwards. "_Never_."

Blaine gritted his teeth together as he began to unravel, broken gasps and whimpered pleas passing his lips as Sebastian jerked him again and again and again and he felt like a supernova, shattering him into technicolour stars as he came. Sebastian's rhythm faltered beneath him but he was mostly blind to it, too lost in the overwhelming tingling that zipped along his nerves as he collapsed inwards, heaving breaths that didn't feel as though they were properly reaching his lungs.

He moved where Sebastian directed him to move, a loose-limbed heap as the other male cleaned himself up and then wrapped his body around Blaine's, cuddling around him and making him the little spoon. He was still twitching, still had a heartbeat that was fast and erratic, still had breathing that would occasionally short out when another thrill of lingering pleasure shook his body.

He relaxed into the comfort of Sebastian's embrace, his eyes fluttering closed and contented sighs drifting from him as Sebastian kissed and licked his neck, swirled his fingertips against the skin of his chest, pressed his knees in behind Blaine's. He felt like he fit perfectly. The sweat on his skin turned cool and Sebastian draped a sheet over them when apparently he began trembling too much.

"I have to say, I'm not disappointed," Sebastian said, his voice low against Blaine's ear as his hand stroked down the inward curve of his waist.

"In what?" Blaine asked, tilting his head to find Sebastian's eyes.

"What you look like, taste like, sound like, feel like, smell like," Sebastian answered, leaning forward to kiss him in a way that was slow and warm, heating his blood all over again. "I enjoyed that."

Blaine hummed and snuggled into Sebastian's arms, his breathing starting to slow down even though he knew his heart was still skipping beats. "You all done after one round? I thought you said something about not sleeping tonight."

Sebastian laughed against his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. "Give it time. I'm not as young as I used to be."

Blaine could feel goosebumps breaking out across his skin again as Sebastian's delicate kisses were left at random places on his sensitive skin.

"Did you ever think you'd end up doing _this_ when you showed up at my studio this morning?" Sebastian asked, his fingers lingering on the groove of Blaine's hips before moving away.

"Of course not."

"Do you regret it?"

Blaine twisted his head to find Sebastian's eyes again, offering a shy smile. "Absolutely not."

Sebastian grinned and kissed him, working his mouth open as his hand pressed firmly against Blaine's stomach, his half-hard length nudging at Blaine's ass. "How bad do you want it?"

He pouted, wiggling his butt backwards and making Sebastian's breath stutter out in a groan. "Didn't your mother ever tell you teasing wasn't nice?"

"Must have tuned her out." Sebastian's fingers left Blaine's skin to search around the bed. Blaine heard the unmistakable sound of foil ripping and then Sebastian's hand rolling on the condom, bumping against his ass. "Not sure I can get enough of you."

"We've got all night," Blaine whispered, although he knew if Sebastian was willing, he'd offer much more than that.

Sebastian didn't respond, instead shifting Blaine's legs apart and pressing forward, pushing inside him in one swift motion. He moaned and arched into Sebastian's body behind his which held him closely. Then Sebastian went still except for his mouth, teeth scraping against Blaine's neck and shoulders as his muscles clenched around the length within him.

"So fucking gorgeous," Sebastian breathed against his skin and Blaine could do nothing except hold on and hope he wouldn't drown.

* * *

**_~FIN~_**


End file.
